One hundred years from now, schoolchildren will study the computer game classics just as they study classic books, music, art and film.

I suppose many people might find this statement absurd. While our culture recognises that films can be art – and is coming to understand that television and comic books can be too – computer games continue to be viewed as a medium that simply cannot support serious artistic endeavour.

As a result of this, the debate around children and gaming continues to centre on whether gaming is "good for children" – whether games improve hand-eye co-ordination for example, or promote literacy skills.

But this is the wrong kind of question. If gaming were seen as an art, the important question would be not whether games are good for us, but whether they are good, full stop.

Watching Hamlet debate whether to kill his uncle isn't likely to improve anyone's reasoning skills, and listening to a Sibelius concerto won't produce a measurable improvement in mathematical ability. The arts are valuable because they increase our sense of what it means to be human, not because of any specific skill or ability they confer.

So what can the makers of computer games do to increase the chances of their products being seen as art? First, of course, make good games. But this has been happening for a long time.

Older games like Myst, the Monkey Island series, Grim Fandango and the Silent Hill series, along with newer games like Braid, Portal, Okami, and the Grand Theft Auto series as well as dozens of other games have a depth, subtlety, richness and originality that put them squarely into the box labelled "art".

Second, though, is a less obvious step. To be seen as art, games need to be easier. A lot easier. They don't have to be only easy. They can provide Elite Super Awesome levels for the enjoyment of those who love to be challenged.

But at the very least games that rely on "twitch" reflex skills should also provide a super-easy "wuss" setting. A level that's easy enough for anyone – including a 75-year-old who's never held a controller before – to make their way through without frustration. That is, if they ever want to be taken seriously as art.

Why? Because another word for "easy" is "accessible". Accessibility is big in art. Galleries provide audio guides – or, to put it another way, "built-in walkthroughs". Classic novels come with notes and modern English translations – that is, they do the hard bits for you.

Even the Proms did their bit for accessibility when they put on a Dr Who concert this year.

Most artists and arts administrators understand that there's no point in creating astonishing, transformative work if you don't help as many people as possible to see and understand it.

But, if you're interested in seeing a game, rather than conquering it, there's often no way to bypass the difficult parts. If Turner Prize-winners and atonal symphonies are accused of being inaccessible to the majority of people, where does that leave most of Grand Theft Auto IV?

Of course some hardcore gamers would find this idea unacceptable. If you take away the challenge of a game, if you let just anyone walk through it, pressing the "wuss" button when they want to ignore a hard element, what's the point of the whole thing?

But these debates are part of the process. After all, no field can really be considered an art until some elitists complain that it's been dumbed down.